


In Dreams I Come

by carzla



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Angst, Dreams, F/M, Fix-It, Humor, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-10
Updated: 2012-01-10
Packaged: 2017-10-29 08:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/317611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/carzla/pseuds/carzla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>[Post AC] He ran and ran and ran. But no matter how much he persisted in escaping, he could never escape from him… even in his dreams. But in truth, how much of it was just a dream? And how much of it… was actually… reality?</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Dreams I Come

**Author's Note:**

> Written in 2007.

_He was running, running on and on down the dark, endless tunnel. He never seemed to be getting closer to the exit. If there were one at all._

_Forever running. That seemed to be something he had been doing since he had been born._

_Back in Nibelheim, he had wanted to be accepted by the village’s other children, but he never could do that fully. In trying to fit it, despite the huge number of failures he had garnered over the years, he was had tried to escape what was truly himself, to such an extent that he almost forgot who he really was. He remembered being conflicted about such a decision to depart from his own personality, but still, he couldn’t stop it. The desire to fit in was far too strong._

_After Zack’s death, he had continued to run from the truth, and even from his identity. Had he been stronger… Strong enough to withstand all the things he had gone through in the Shinra Mansion, he would never have needed to take on Zack’s personality. He wouldn’t have to run – and that time it was practically **literally** – from Tifa as he wallowed in his guilt about being unable to save Aerith from death…_

_Then, he wouldn’t have to face Sephiroth as an enemy. Thrice. Blinding rage had driven him to attack Sephiroth the first time in Nibelheim. The second time and the third time, it was because it was necessary. And that he was the only one strong enough to do it. Strangely enough, for all his successful running and escaping records, he could never run away from Sephiroth in any form of the word – even in dreams. Somehow or another, he would always be drawn back to the silver-haired General._

_At this realization, a flash of light appeared before him and he ceased his footsteps. The light then took the shape of a human. A human that was so familiar to him that it ached to once again see that figure… as Sephiroth once again appeared in all his regal glory._

_He sucked in a sharp breath as the Masamune manifested in the other’s hand with a soft ‘swoosh’, looking as sharp and deadly as it had always been. Was he going to be killed? Was he going to die by Sephiroth’s hand, on Masamune’s silver blade this time round? After all, he had gotten past the “third time lucky” stage. And four, if one were superstitious enough to believe, was a decidedly ominous number._

_Finding a lack of weapons lying around in the black void that he could use to defend himself with, he resigned himself to the fate of dying eventually. Without a weapon or even materia, there was no way he could be able to kill Sephiroth. Even **with** a weapon, that was still a difficult feat to manage. How in the world had he actually done it twice?_

_The first offensive strike was extremely swift, even by Sephiroth’s standards. Or had he become slower? There wasn’t much time for him to really contemplate it before he instinctively rolled away to avoid the sharp tip of Masamune from piercing into him. Even in this strange lack of light, he could still clearly see the silver blade glinting brightly, and almost imagined a bright sheen of deep crimson coating it. The crimson of his blood…_

_The subsequent attacks became a fast, dangerous blur and he barely managed to get away in time before Masamune came at him again with a hissing swish. Then, at some point or another, he felt his breath knocked out of him as – strangely – Sephiroth’s fist came into harsh contact with his solar plexus. Tumbling backwards, he fought to regain his balance as he suddenly slammed into a hard wall-like structure. He had no time to be surprised about the sudden emergence of an object in the void before he felt a sharp pain shoot through his right arm._

_Blinking to get his vision to clear, he saw the silver gleam of Masamune partially coated delicately with his blood as it held him in place against the “wall” by his shoulder. How utterly ironic that this had happened to him before. Just that he was quite sure that he wouldn’t be able to defend himself anymore this time._

_He looked up into the emerald green cat-like eyes belonging to Sephiroth, expecting to find the malicious, satisfied gleam in them. He had, after all, caught his prey. Surprisingly, there was no such gleam in the man’s eyes. Instead, there was some strange emotion in place of it. Something that he couldn’t quite place, yet knew it not to be the satisfaction a warrior gets after successfully cornering his enemy. What was it then…?_

_Even more surprising, though, were Sephiroth’s next actions. The man released his hold on Masamune, which miraculously remained in place like it was suspended by invisible wires, and walked towards his form that was leaning against the “wall”. Sephiroth then knelt down beside him, close enough that he could observe every detail on the man’s elegantly sculpted face and see the captivating interplay of varying shades of beautiful silver hair._

_Gold was so overrated, he noted absently. But why was Sephiroth so close? He could hardly breathe properly at the proximity of the other man…_

_A gloved hand reached forwards and he closed his eyes to brace himself for either a harsh smack or a punch to his face. Seconds later, his blue eyes flew open wide to stare at the silver-haired man in shock as the said hand had gently cupped his cheek instead. What… What was going on here?_

_He didn’t dare to speak, afraid to break the moment. As surreal as it all seemed to be… Sephiroth didn’t want to… to… kill him? But why not? He had done enough things to the silver-haired man to warrant his death. So… why… wasn’t he… He was at his mercy now… Sure, this was a dream, a fact he somehow suddenly knew, but… but…_

_The man leaned closer to him, closing the already small gap between their faces. He could feel Sephiroth’s body warmth radiating towards him despite the man’s seemingly ice-cold demeanor… could feel Sephiroth’s breath ghosting against his face… against his lips… Was he… going to…?_

_The instance he felt Sephiroth’s lips touch his own, the void erupted in a sudden burst of bright white light._

* * *

Cloud Strife jerked upright abruptly as he awoke from another of his dreams about Sephiroth, feeling adrenaline coursing through him like had just ran two marathons in the space of a few minutes. He rubbed his palms against his face as he tried to calm his racing heart. Again. Why? He didn’t understand why he was dreaming about Sephiroth, three weeks after killing the man for the second time. But this was the first time the dream had taken such a turn.

He had constantly been dreaming about running through the dark, endless tunnel for the past week, all the while his thought processes during those dreams becoming increasingly negative. Although, by now, he had already forgiven himself for not being able to save Aerith… the dream continued to reflect his state of self before that last fight with Kadaj and his two brothers.

While he was never the type to be superstitious, Cloud had to admit that the dream was likely to be telling something about himself. Most likely about his mental state, which never was totally all right from the beginning anyway. That much he knew already. The running-in-the-endless-dark dream was okay for him to bear, until a few days ago he had the feeling of being chased by someone, or just being watched by someone.

He remembered seeing flashes of silver rivers and green orbs, which when awake, had alluded it to being Sephiroth as he was the only person he had ever encountered that reminded him so much of the color silver… and the green of Sephiroth’s eyes was something he’d take forever to forget.

But tonight was the very first time that Sephiroth actually appeared as a figure in his dreams. Not as flashes of color, but as a very real person… as real as dream people went, although Sephiroth felt more real, almost tangible. Somehow. And why… why hadn’t the dream Sephiroth killed him? Why had he… he… _kissed_ him instead…? It was impossible for Sephiroth to feel… the same… despite all his hopes…

Some impulse took a hold of him and Cloud raised a slightly trembling forefinger to his lips. The sudden rush of crystal clear images that flooded his brain at the contact almost made him double over at their intensity. How could a dream be so vivid? He didn’t know if he was only imagining it, but it seemed that he could still feel the lingering sensation of Sephiroth’s lips on his…

But it was all just a dream. Sephiroth, who by all accounts, was already dead, couldn’t have kissed him. In fact, he had been the first one to know that, having been the one to kill the silver-haired man.

But… Just… Why did it seem so _real?_

* * *

“You’re tormenting the poor kid, Seph,” Zack sighed as he watched his blond friend struggle to comprehend what had happened during his ‘dream’. “Why don’t you just do things directly instead of screwing with his mind some more? He’s got enough of that to last several lifetimes, y’know!”

Sometimes, Zack truly wondered why he bothered with his silver-haired friend. For all his brilliance, he could be just so _dense_ at times.

Sephiroth sighed softly as he turned to look at his old friend. “Zack. Weren’t you the one who suggested this to begin with?”

The dark-haired man at least had the decency to look half-embarrassed. “Okay, so I _did_ suggest it. But I didn’t think you’d make it turn out this way!”

“What way?”

Zack bit back a sigh of exasperation. “My original intention, Seph, was to have you save Cloud from that darkness he’s been running around in. And whilst doing so, let him know that you, the real you never wanted to do all that had been done and then you could confess your love to him!”

Sephiroth could’ve smacked his friend if he were the type to do that. Instead he settled on giving Zack a glare, and said, “In all the years you’ve known me, and in the few weeks down here in the Lifestream… Do you _really think_ I’d be able to do that?”

“What? Why not? I mean it’s just saving-”

“I am _not_ talking about that part of your original plan, Zack.”

“Then wh-… Oh…”

“Yes… _Oh_ ,” Sephiroth repeated, unable to keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

“Okay… so we’ll throw away the confession part from the plan. My bad. But what’s with you fighting him and then kissing him? I know you’ve got a sadistic streak in you and all, Seph, but this isn’t the time to be exhibiting it.”

“I…” Sephiroth swallowed uncertainly.

Frankly, he wasn’t too sure why he had chosen the course of route he’d taken. It was much too unorthodox, although it fit with how he was when JENOVA was within him… Had JENOVA left some intangible mark on him that couldn’t be erased although she was now eradicated from the Planet?

“I… don’t know…”

Noting the confused and somewhat agonized expression on Sephiroth’s face, Zack decided that maybe he had to go about doing things in a different manner, like really directing what to do and what _not_ to do. It was quite obvious that Sephiroth sometimes had no idea how to handle emotions outside of anger and possibly hatred. Especially more so now that he could really be an existence untainted by JENOVA or forced to be a certain way by ShinRa.

“You and Spike have _got to be_ the two most screwed-up individuals I’ve ever had the pleasure to encounter in my life – both dead and alive. I must have some masochistic streak in me for constantly helping you two…” he half-sighed and half-grumbled as a wry smile slipped onto his face.

Not that he was actually complaining. The two of them were his dearest friends and there was no way in hell would he abandon them willingly.

“Never mind. Back to the point at hand, I believe you should know by now that what you’ve been doing isn’t the best method to get feelings of ‘I-don’t-hate-you’ across… much less anything else more positive. Frankly, I’m okay with you appearing in his dream that way, but lay off on Masamune. He’s faced you thrice; I believe he’s seen enough of Masamune pointing at him with the intent to harm. And you could do something about that scenery. It’s infinitely depressing. You need something more cheerful or peaceful…”

“I’m not exactly in the best capacity to think of a setting that can put someone at ease…”

“Cloud has a soft spot for flowers… They make him calmer,” interjected a new voice gently.

“Aerith! I didn’t expect you to find us here,” Zack exclaimed as he ran over to hug the flower girl as a greeting.

Smiling, Aerith returned the embrace before gently stepped out of it and said teasingly, “I didn’t think you would, Zack. But I do think that I can be of some help here.”

* * *

_He was running, running on and on down the dark, endless tunnel. He never seemed to be getting closer to the exit. If there were one at all._

_Suddenly, as if in answer to his depressing thoughts, a faint light started to glow in the distance. It was as if the light was beckoning him towards it. Without hesitation, he started running even faster towards it. As time passed, the light became brighter – though no blindingly so – and larger until it looked almost to be like a doorway to another dimension._

_He hesitated right at the edge of the light. Should he go through it? Should he see if there was anything on the other side? The light flickered slightly, as if sensing his doubts. A fine tendril then wound its way around his hand and appeared to tug gently, seemingly encouraging him to step through. Deciding that it would do no harm to cross over, he stepped into the light._

_In contrast to the darkness of the prior plane, he was greeted with almost blinding white light. He snapped his eyes shut and used an arm to further cover his eyes to block out the brightness. Then slowly, he lowered his arm and tentatively opened his eyes. They soon began to adjust to the strong amount of light in comparison to previously. When his eyes became used to it, he finally noticed that he was standing in a meadow of wild flowers, all in bloom and in various vivid colors. The sky above him was a startling clear light blue, and tufts of white clouds rolled along gently in the faint breeze._

_The environment was comforting, and even a touch familiar to him. It seemed like some place Aerith would like to be in… Aerith… Was it her who brought him here to see him? Besides, she was likely to be the only one who knew that he took comfort from the presence of such nature – something not found in Midgar or Edge, other than her church._

_“Not quite, Cloud. I just set up this place for the person who wants to meet you,” came Aerith’s voice a little distance behind him._

_Immediately, he turned around to see the flower girl smiling brightly at him. And was it a trick of the light, or did she seem to have an uncharacteristic impish gleam in her eyes? Then suddenly, beside her, Zack materialized with a large grin on his face. This time, he was quite sure that Zack definitely had a mischievous look in his violet eyes._

_“Yo, Spike! How’s it going?” Zack greeted him cheerfully. “And before you start guessing, I’m not the one who wants to meet you too. I’m thinking you’ll possibly want to meet that person too.”_

_Not Zack too? Then who? There wasn’t anyone he could think of who would want to meet him, and who would enlist the help of Aerith and Zack… Or it could be the other way round… Who would Aerith and Zack help? On both accounts, he had no idea who that mysterious person could be. And if it was someone he wanted to meet… Well, there was no possible way for meeting **him** to happen._

_“Ah hah! There he is!” Zack suddenly exclaimed after a brief period of silence, and the grin on his face widened almost impossibly. “Yo, Seph over here!”_

_Seph. Seph? As in **Sephiroth**? His body stiffened despite the relaxing atmosphere. There was only one person on the whole of Gaia whom Zack called ‘Seph’ and could get away with it without so much as a scratch. No way. Couldn’t be him… Zack, perhaps he could somewhat understand, but why Aerith too… Why would Aerith help the person who killed her? She was the forgiving type, but he didn’t think that one could forgive his or her murderer so easily…_

_“Turn around and look at him, Cloud. It’s really okay,” Aerith encouraged with a soothing smile. “He isn’t the same man you had been fighting.”_

_He was about to slowly do as Aerith had encouraged when he felt a presence directly behind him and froze once more. He recognized it all too quickly, and knew for sure that it was indeed Sephiroth. Gaia, the man was so close… almost like that other time… that other dream… Or was it not really a dream after all?_

_“Cloud.”_

_It was the first time he had heard Sephiroth call him by his name without any form of malice or mocking. The way his name, ordinary as he had often thought it to be, seemed to roll around him in a strangely warm blanket was surprising. But it made him feel comforted… and gave him a strange sense of serenity. The reassuring feeling of calmness prompted him to slowly turn around to face the silver-haired General._

_There, before him, stood Sephiroth dressed in his usual attire of black leather. But this time, the Masamune was nowhere to be seen; instead there was a single right black wing partially folded behind the man. There was also an expression of serenity on Sephiroth’s face. He wasn’t exactly smiling, but his features were relaxed and were absolutely unguarded. It was as if he felt that there was nothing he had to hide in this place._

_He couldn’t remember ever seeing Sephiroth like that in all his life. Even before Nibelheim, the man had always been guarded due to his position as ShinRa’s top general and as a result of his upbringing. There wasn’t even a need to bring up how he was after Nibelheim. This Sephiroth, just like Aerith had said, did not appear to be the person he had fought against before._

_Without fully realizing it until it had happened, a question came from his lips, “…Why?”_

_“Perhaps you’d like to elaborate, Cloud…”_

_“Why… do you… want to meet me…?” Why was Sephiroth standing so close to him? Why did it seem like Sephiroth…?_

_“To tell you directly… that if not for JENOVA, I would never have done what I had… which inadvertently had caused you much hurt. For that… I apologize…”_

_He was stunned. Even more so, if it were actually possible, than that dream wherein Sephiroth had switched from seemingly wanting to kill him to kissing him in a span of a few seconds. Fortunately (or maybe not), he was saved from finding an appropriate response by Zack’s timely intervention._

_“There’s something else, isn’t there, Seph?”_

_To that, he noted that Sephiroth seemed to glare at Zack, or so he assumed since he was still facing the silver-haired man and could only assume that the direction of the glare was directed at Zack. Somehow, it appeared that Zack’s words had made the man a little uncomfortable._

_“Oh c’mon Seph! Just tell Spike already! Or you could- Ouch! Aerith!”_

_At that, he turned around to see Zack rubbing his arm and Aerith giving the dark-haired male a sweet, innocent smile. Interestingly enough, it seemed that Aerith had smacked Zack. Something he didn’t quite comprehend why._

_Turning the smile to him, Aerith spoke, “I think we’ve overstayed here. We’ll be going now. See you next time, Cloud. Sephiroth.”_

_With that, she turned around, one hand holding firmly onto Zack’s and started walking away before the two of them slowly dissolved into the air. All the while Zack had looked somewhat disgruntled, but the man still managed the last word before he completely disappeared, “You can show him too, y’know Seph!”_

_Facing Sephiroth once more, he asked tentatively, “What did Zack mean…?”_

_Without the presence of Zack and Aerith, he felt a tad bit more nervous than before. Luckily the field of flowers helped serve as a soothing balm to his nerves._

_Sephiroth looked at him intensely, as if studying his attitude and trying to figure something out. He blinked at the close scrutiny, feeling a faint blush rise to his cheeks. He never really like being the focus of attention, and being under **Sephiroth’s** full attention was a little unnerving._

_“Um… Se-”_

_His words were lost to him as Sephiroth’s mouth closed over his and strong arms embraced him, pulling him flush against the other man’s body. A shadow seemed to fall over him, which he realized was Sephiroth’s single wing enveloping around him. He was being kissed. Again. By Sephiroth. There was nothing remotely contradicting about the situation at present. Other than the fact he still didn’t quite understand **why**._

_As much as he wanted to pull away and ask why, he found that he couldn’t. It wasn’t that Sephiroth was too strong, considering he had been able to fight the man. It was just that, he couldn’t seem to draw any strength into his limbs aside from clinging onto Sephiroth almost desperately as he started to return the kiss, both their lips parting simultaneously to further deepen the shared kiss._

_Was this what Zack had been hinting about? Was it… actually… despite how impossible it seemed to be…_

_Love?_

* * *

Cloud once again awoke, sitting up on his bed almost immediately. This time, he was absolutely certain that his lips were still warm and tingling from the sensation of being kissed thoroughly and deeply. Did that mean that… that it…

Something then caught his sight, distracting him from his thoughts. Something was tucked in the corner of his sheets. He reached for it and gently pulled it out from under the covers, taking a good look at it. A shocked gasp escaped his lips…

In his hand lay a lone, black feather…

…

_“I will never be a memory.”_

**Author's Note:**

> In one of the ways the number "four" can be pronounced in Japanese, it is the same way of how you would pronounce "death" - so superstition sometimes correlates "four" with "death". Since FF7 actually originates from Japan... well yeah.


End file.
